


Closer

by Crystallinee



Series: A Little Death [1]
Category: Hellsing
Genre: Angst, Codependency, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationships, Pre-Canon, Slight fluff, Teen Integra, mutual ptsd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28160460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystallinee/pseuds/Crystallinee
Summary: It takes a monster to soothe her, and a girl to soothe a monster.And the girl said to the wolf:The safest place is beside me.Young Integra & Alucard.
Relationships: Alucard & Integra Hellsing
Series: A Little Death [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2125512
Comments: 11
Kudos: 44





	Closer

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in the first year after Alucard awakens; Integra is around 13.

He waited for her.

Sitting in his mock throne surrounded by walls of stone, he waited for time to move again. He took a breath, just to feel the air slosh around in his dead lungs and back up again. He absentmindedly let her movements far above soothe him, fill out the empty space that stretched into space, the sheer vastness of nothing.

He could trace her footsteps through walls, floors and stone. The taste lingered on his tongue, sweet and supple, the smell of her fear and her defiance. She haunted his thoughts most nights; the memory of her stumbling into his prison cell, searching for salvation and finding _him_ instead. He almost laughed at that, the cruel twist of fate that had brought her to him instead of the knight in shining armor she must have been hoping for. What a twist, indeed.

But the void was here.

There was a shift in the air, and interest made his teeth prickle.

He rose with a cracking of bones, materializing into the room where his new master spent most of her nights. He remained hidden within the shadows, watching. The library was encased in dusk, tall bookshelves hovering along the walls, only lit by cold moonlight and a sole candle.

There she was, curled up in a large chair, her hands shaking. The book had slid from her lap and fallen to the floor with a dull thud.

His eyes caught the title from across the room; vampire lore, naturally. Her small frame was trembling, her face shielded by her hair, fists clenched in her lap. In the pale light Integra looked like a starved vampire, going half-mad from exhaustion. He found it quite intriguing.

When he disentangled from the shadows and approached her, she didn't flinch.

"You look tired, Master."

"I'm fine," she said, straightening up. "What are you doing here?"

"Keeping you company, that's all."

Her facade dropped from her like the book had earlier; and then she sank back onto the chair. Her eyes were wide, still rimmed red from whatever was plaguing her. He strode over and sat down next to her. Waiting for her to speak or order him away, he listened to the sound of her breathing.

She leaned into his side without a word.

When Walter entered the library later that night, he found something that made him freeze.

There was the vampire, sitting leisurely in the armchair with his legs crossed, eyes glinting red at the intrusion. In his lap Integra rested, placed with her legs to the side. One of her hands clenched his coat lapel tightly and her head rested against his shoulder. The vampire's long arm was wrapped around her, keeping her in place against him.

Walter straightened up. "This is highly inappropriate, Alucard."

The vampire's lips stretched into a smile that was all but friendly.

"Is it?" His voice was low as to not disturb their sleeping master. "Why is she plagued by these night terrors, you might ask?" Amusement grew on his lips. The absence of his tinted glasses and wide hat was further differentiating him from the humans in the room.

"Where were you, her trusted butler, when she got them?"

An icy sensation surrounded the aging man – if it was the demonic being's doing he did not know, but the shadows in the corners were moving slightly, and he thought he saw them close in just a bit.

"I was on a mission ordered by the late sir Hellsing, as you are well aware."

"Is that so." The vampire adjusted himself just slightly, his smile widening to show a hint of teeth.

It made the butler's fingers itch – the instincts were never far away, suppressed just beneath the surface, to deal with this unholy creature once and for all. This new form was no less unsettling than the feral little girl with the fur hat that he had grown used to. But for Integra's sake, he had to keep the strained peace.

As if sensing the silent opposition, the shadows drew closer as the vampire gloated.

"How fortunate for our young Master… that I was there."

Walter swallowed the words resting on his tongue. The fact remained that his young ward had sought out the comfort of that creature instead of the man who helped raise her.

Integra stirred slightly, her grip around the coat loosening.

"Master Integra needs proper rest," Walter said sternly, taking a step closer as if to persuade the other to let go of his prize, but he seemed roused by the promise of conflict. "She is to leave for school tomorrow night."

Alucard remembered; she had been pressured into attending a boarding school to finish her education; at least during the following term.

Integra turned her head to glance up at him, disoriented.

"I will see to that." Alucard got to his feet with his master in his arms. With a sideways leer at the butler, he strode out of the library. 

He carried her through the dark hallways of the manor, the shadows quivering in the corners. Once he reached her bedroom, he placed her unceremoniously on her bed and turned to leave.

"Stay, Alucard."

He turned halfway to glance at the girl. He wanted to withdraw to his chambers again, to his coffin where nothing but the lull of slow dripping water and cold darkness would soothe him back into a state of sedation. He was nothing but a shadow these days, the resident poltergeist.

"Is that an order?" he inquired.

For her own sake she should not invite the monster any closer than she had to. 

"No," she said, her tone firm despite her sleepiness. Her eyes were so unlike her ancestors; trusting. "I'd like you to stay, anyway."

He pondered that for a moment. She was bold enough to invite _him_ to her chambers? He almost laughed at the thought. He was bound to serve her, but a dog released from its leash could turn on the hand that fed it.

Integra simply tucked herself under her covers and curled into a ball, still dressed. The crown of her head was visible, illuminated in a silver hue by the moonlight.

She looked up as he settled beside her on the bed, on top of the covers. When he looked into those wide eyes, haunted by the presence of death, he wondered what he must look like to her - some kind of deranged guardian demon. How ironic.

Resting his back against the headboard and clasping his hands in front of him, he watched her slowly fall back sleep. Her body was tense and her head moved restlessly. As the hours passed, he found himself almost fascinated by the way she thrashed, how beads of sweat broke out on her forehead and how her hands clenched the covers.

Humans were such strange creatures.

Was she dreaming of that filth that had hunted her to the basement, that pathetic man who could barely aim a gun and hired men to do his bidding? Was _that_ enough to bring terror into that little heart of hers?

He drifted into her mind, curious to see what plagued his Master so. He watched, almost transfixed. It was hard to make out anything coherent, cellars and tables and empty rooms, but one sentence kept repeating, and until they spilled out of her lips.

_Father - I'm sorry._

He didn't know what to feel as she uttered those words. Her small face contorted in pain, mumbling incoherent words, until they formed sound again: "Father! I…" and the words trailed off.

Alucard placed a steady hand on her forehead. The heat and perspiration sent a stirring through his entire being. She was radiating warmth, almost scorching him.

Integra stilled, a gasp falling from her lips. Her head was stilled by his heavier hand, and she lay motionless for a few moments before her eyes slowly cracked open. He half-expected her to flinch or jump out of her skin, but she held his gaze steadily as her breathing slowed.

A smile crept upon his face. She was not scared of him or that human trash, she was scared of _failure_. How interesting she was, indeed. He wanted to pry her mind open and see what else he could find there, study her closer than he did when he hovered in the shadows, but she brought him out of it.

"Stay," she repeated, a request laced in sleepiness.

He chuckled, and slid down the bed to lie beside her. "As you wish, Master."

The sun would soon be rising; he could feel its imposing weight approaching with the dawn, and here he was, closer to a living being that he had been in decades.

Integra turned to face him, the same strange expression of calm on her face. "Thank you," she said and moved closer, leaving only inches between their bodies. He was still as a statue as he watched her drift off to sleep. 

In his centuries of existence, he'd always been one to indulge himself.

So when the girl in a state of half-sleep pressed her head against his chest, he let her. He tucked her head underneath his chin and molded himself around her.

The darkness enveloped him like a veil. He was _warm_. The unfamiliar sensation spread through him, making him tense at first before he adjusted to the temperature. He searched for the open veins that would accompany that sort of pulsating, soothing heat, his mouth eager.

He found none, and licked his drying lips.

His senses picked up on his surroundings, the warmth against his front. Reflexively his arms tightened around the smaller body, as his senses roused, and he heard the steady heartbeat. The marks on his gloves burned him momentarily.

As he opened his eyes, Integra stirred in his arms. His hand slid along her eggshell-thin skull, feeling the texture of her hair. The unfamiliarity was quickly giving way to something else, of having someone like his master, the heir of the man that once defeated him, in his arms.

She was moving now, wriggling a little. He wanted to sink into the soft darkness again, and pressed her a little closer to his chest, her warmth effectively sending him back to sleep.

"Alucard," she protested, trying to detangle herself from him. He let go of her and gazed at her through half-lidded eyes as she sat up. To his amusement, her cheeks were slightly flushed pink.

"It's almost ten! Why didn't Walter wake me up?"

The vampire didn't move, dozing off as he watched her stumble out of bed in a hurry, heading towards her closet with a hairbrush in her hand.

He grinned as he imagined the butler discovering them in this situation – that was sure to get a rise out of his little Master, and the old man might have heart attack. He heard her mutter as she struggled to quickly change her clothes, turning his face away. His body greedily sought out the warmth she had left behind in the bed, any lingering trace of her.

The bed was covered in her scent – he would recognize it from miles away. Not only that, she wore _his_ scent now – any human might not be able to pick up on that, but some would. She had unknowingly marked herself, and it made him grin wider.

He rolled over and closed his eyes as her steps faded down the hallway. He would be gone by the time she returned.

* * *

Back in his domains of stone, the silence was rarely disturbed.

He might as well have turned into stone; time had crawled to a halt and at last come to a complete standstill.

The darkness was solid, surrounding him with a familiar magnitude – there was the threat of the sun far away, the pain lingering in his veins and muscles. A dull ache that faded as he reached for consciousness, only to be pressed down into a state of paralysis. The sensation of his chest being ripped open, the sound of his own ragged breathing in his head, and the needles – the burn marks underneath his gloves flared, and he let the ache fan out across his entire being.

When he was roused to his senses, his eyes stung. He pressed one hand to his face and something wet covered his glove, sliding down his skin.

Something had awakened him. Slow, steady steps, the sound of crushed plastic underneath soles.

Through his fingers, he lifted his head to glance at her, the small figure that had made her way down to the resident monster's den.

It would not do her any good to forget what he was. She might have feared for her life once, but she had never seen what he had, the grating of bone and flesh that went on for years and years on end until there was nothing but a still, slow numbness. A haze that turned to something that just wanted to devour and devour and never had enough.

He drew a slight breath through his teeth - through the lingering haze of blood, her scent was still dominant. She was standing only a few feet away from him, her posture straight.

 _Come closer_ , the monster urged, like in some twisted fairy tale he had picked up somewhere. This was what he had become, crouching in his mock throne, trying to keep the moist from his eyes. It betrayed him, running in red rivers down his cheeks.

Her feet had paved the way through the empty blood bags scattered across the floor like bodies on a battlefield, and he could not look at her. A mock substitute suited for a mock king. He was uncomfortably full; sloshing with the donated liquid, unable to drift back to sleep. The comfortable, dull haze had been shattered, making his teeth grind against each other.

She waited, refusing to put him out of his misery.

 _What big eyes you have_ , she should say, entertain the monster. The better to watch you with. _What big hands you have._ Then, like the fairytale goes, she would take another step - _  
_

He opened both eyes to look at her face.

"I'm back," she greeted him.

"Did you miss your humble servant?" he threw back, his hand still covering his face.

She had returned sooner than he had dared hope for, if time meant anything to him.

As if he had done anything else in her absence but wait for her, like a stain of blood against stone. As if he had done anything but melt into himself and wanted to tear through the fabric of time, violently and without restraint, to bring back something that wasn't a figment of his imagination. Maybe she was an apparition, sent to finally damn him to all hell.

"We have work to do," she said, moving closer.

He smiled slowly, his nerves tingling to life.

Then, she leaned forward and placed her small hands on the sides of his face, prompting his own hand to lower to his knee. His drying blood smeared her skin.

Their eyes met, bloodshot red and blue. Her steady heartbeat made the world shift back into focus. "Are you alright, Alucard?"

He tilted his head upwards, into her touch. "Why yes, my Master. _Integra_."

He collected whatever was left of himself when she smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, please consider leaving a comment. I would love to know what you think.


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